


Just Another Day At The Office

by GingerBee



Category: Uncategorized Fandoms - Fandom
Genre: Gen, I Don't Even Know, Major Characterdeath IS a character, Yes you read that right, it'll all make sense in the end, just read it, probably, so are the other two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 00:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerBee/pseuds/GingerBee
Summary: Major Characterdeath is not having the best of mornings, but it could have been worse. All in all it’s just another day at the office, really.





	Just Another Day At The Office

**Author's Note:**

> **Author’s Note 1:** After not having written anything in almost five years, I didn’t know whether I still _could_. I hope it turned out okay.  
>  Also, I put a teeny tiny insider in there. Maybe you can find it. ;)  
> I’m not too pleased with the title, just FYI. In my head I was always calling it ‘The AO3-Story’, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t have flown. (Or that AO3 would’ve been impressed.)  
> Everlasting gratitude to [anice_1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anice_1/pseuds/anice_1) and [junetangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/culuyetille/pseuds/junetangerine)! I’d be truly lost without you guys!  
> (Plus, I added a little to the story since you’ve last read it, but I hope it’s still okay.)  
> Unbetaed. Well, I wouldn’t say _completely_ unbetaed, since aforementioned anice_1 and junetangerine looked it over, and I’m sure they would’ve told me if they’d found anything wrong, but no, this has not been looked over by an English native speaker. All mistakes and typos still in there are mine.

It was six o’clock in the morning and Major Characterdeath sat on his desk, studying his usual progress reports. He was on his third cup of coffee and dearly hoped nobody would disturb him before his fourth.

He heard an indignant, “Yip!” from his right and turned his head. In the small doggy-bed he had acquired lately sat a tiny, fuzzy ball of Fluff. In bright pink, of course. No-one knew where the little thing had come from or why of all people it had chosen Major Characterdeath as Its Person, but one day it had just appeared and ever since refused to leave the Major’s office. It was cute and soft and calming and, honestly, the fluffiest Fluff to have ever fluffed. 

In a fit of mischief Major Characterdeath had named it Rodney, pretty sure that his equal half - who was pretty much neither of those things - would enjoy the irony. 

The Major rose,walked over to the Fluff and crouched down. He buried his hands in the... well, fluffy strands, scratched it behind its... yeah, those were probably ears... hopefully... and murmured, “I’m so sorry. How could I not greet you properly? Who’s a good boy, hm?”

The Fluff purred up a storm and Major Characterdeath indulged a little longer, maybe, than absolutely necessary. Then he reached into a small jar by the doggy-bed, fed the Fluff some lines and returned to his desk. 

According to his reports everything turned out nicely so far, but some tough decisions were yet to make. Which stories to accept and which not, for example. 

He had never wanted to become a Major, and, frankly, his job sucked sometimes. Especially when there were heroes envolved, or well-liked characters in general. It sucked exponentially less when it concerned side characters, characters who had died already in the past or - at best - the villains of the piece. Though, usually no-one bothered to tag such a thing as a “major character death”.

Anyway. 

To keep his not-too-devastating side character deaths, past deaths and villains’ deaths, he had to bite the bullet and let some important fan-favourites die once in a while. That was just the way things worked.

He sighed and continued reading.

***

About two hours later his non-military assistant, Mrs. Non-Con, showed up. She had actually started out under the Major as Miss Non, but had gotten married to a Mr. Con about six months ago and promptly hyphenated. 

“Good morning, Major!”

“Good morning, Mrs. Non-Con!”

Her dog, Rape, wagged its tail and stopped by Major Characterdeath to recieve his daily morning-scratch-and-pat before turning around, heading for the _other_ doggy-bed, situated beneath Mrs. Non-Con’s desk, and peacefully curling-up in it. 

“How’s the Mister?” Mrs. Non-Con asked.

“Grumpy. He ranted a bit about having to tweak the HTML or whatever again, because the spacing and paragraphing in some of the fanfics is absolutely abysmal, and went on his merry way. How’s yours?”

“Oh, you know. Same old.”

“After six months?"

“Hush! Or I’m going to tell you how he _really_ is. How we woke up together, gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes, had sleepy morning sex... In _detail_.”

“Shutting up now.”

“Wise decision. Is there any coffee left?”

“Erm...”

“Dear lord. Seriously, that stuff will kill you one day.”

“Yeah, well. It would definitely be a better way to go than shoot myself over those ridiculous reports.”

“Ridiculous reports?”

“Yes,” the Major grumbled. “They make no sense. And, honestly, I could swear I’ve never heard of most of them before. Ever.”

“What do they say?”

“Fuck if I know. Something about ratings, additional tags, excluding, including,... stuff like that.”

“Let me see!” She took the files from his desktop and looked them over. “Oh! Of course!”

“What is it?”

“Substitutional work.”

“What?”

“Substitutional work.”

“Repeating it doesn’t make it more understandable.”

“Sir, with General Audiences on his mission in the Alternate Universe,...”

“Oh! I forgot about that! He’s still there?”

“Well, it _is_ a vast space.”

“True.”

“And always evolving.”

“Also true.”

“What I meant to say: with General Audiences still exploring the Alternate Universe, you’re the highest ranking officer.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No, sir.”

“But... I’m a Major!”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about Colonel Whatshisface?”

“As you well know, sir, we don’t have Colonels here. Only Majors.”

“Damn! Okay! Right... erm... Major Changes! He’s my senior! Five years, at least!”

“Still fighting with the T-ropes.”

“Why?”

“No idea. I think, he wants to get them in order?”

The Major snorted.

“Good luck with that! Oh! Why not Major Spoilers?”

“Erm... there was this incident with the plot holes...”

The Major groaned.

“Fuck. You’re right, of course. He fell into one.”

“Three.”

“Three? It’s a miracle he’s still alive.”

“We thought so, too. He’ll be staying in the hospital for quite a while, though.”

“Of course he will,” the Major sighed. “English Major?”

“On leave in Limerick. He mentioned something about needing a bit more lowbrow stuff for  
once.” 

“Major Triggers?”

“Yeah, about that... He should be in your reports.”

“Okay. Why?”

“Because... well, because he had a... crisis. Kind of."

“He had a kind of crisis.”

“Yes.”

“About what?”

“Erm... work. I think. In general.”

“Work. _Our_ work?”

“And _his_ work. Probably. He said, he’s tired of always being the bad guy.”

“He’s...” Major Characterdeath rolled his eyes. “He’s not the bad guy! He’s a Tag, just like any of us.”

“I know, sir.”

The Major sighed. It seemed like this would be a sighing-day. He had already sighed way too often for one day. For a week, actually. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll talk to him. Where is he now?”

“Petting some Plotbunnies.”

“I just hope he’s staying away from the vicious ones.” Major Characterdeath glanced at the Fluff. “Care to join me?” The tiny pink ball lowered its head and snuggled back into the velvet-y cushions of its bed. “That’s a ‘no’, then. Oh, well...”

He was almost out of the door when Mrs. Non-Con called him back.

“Sir! Admiral Ities is on the line!”

“Hey! Wouldn’t _they_ be the best one to do all thist substitute stuff?”

Admiral Ities, who, over the years, had managed to become four people at once - three male, and one female; the latter constantly bemoaning the fact that there was ‘waaaay too much testosterone in the game’, and couldn’t there please be another woman, preferably British - _should_ be the perfect substitute for a General, right?

“Erm... no?”

“Why?”

“Because they are in the Navy and you and General Audiences are in the Army?”

“Damn it! I always forget!” He took the receiver and pressed a button. “Admiral Ities! How are our Ships today?”

“Fine, Major, fine. We had a slight decline in the Het department, but the Slash ones are well on target.”

“Glad to hear it. What can I do for you?”

And so it was another fourty-five minutes before Major Characterdeath left his office, since every single personality of the Admiral had something to add. 

Seriously. No matter how bad Rodney said they were, he would definitely go to the concert of The Greek Chorus tonight. At least you knew where you were with iambic pentameters!

**Author's Note:**

>  **Author’s Note 2:** Some of you may have noticed it, but for those of you who haven’t: I based Major Characterdeath and Mrs. Non-Con loosely on Major John Sheppard and Dr. Elisabeth Weir from Stargate Atlantis. (Though I’m afraid I didn’t do her character justice.) So, maybe the Major naming the Fluff Rodney makes a bit more sense now. ;)  
>  Equal half: in relationships I really prefer the partners to be equal, so I consequently refuse to call one of them “better” half.  
> And I truly don’t know about the decline in het-ships, but I needed a word play for “head department”, so there you go.


End file.
